War Bound
by Laura Summers
Summary: The war is lost to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The ministry has fallen, and the Dark Lord has taken entire control of the Wizarding World. He made human slave trade legal, and Hermione Granger finds her self trapped in the service of the Malfoys. One in particular; Draco. Destined to do his bidding day and night, she will do everything she can to escape... or will she?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The war had changed everything. Everything she knew, everyone she loved, they were all gone. Her would was destroyed.

Everyone was dead. She watched Hagrid fall before her, eyes staring blankly at they sky, lifeless. She had seen Luna crushed beneath a pile of rubble, Bellatrix Lestrange laughing over her as she shot green blasts from her wand towards Molly Weasly, who soon crumpled.

She ran desperately with Ron at her side, ducking and weaving, doing their best to avoid spells and enemies alike. Still, their eyes searched for the snake, basilisk fang at the ready. There was no time to mourn now, only to fight.

There. Up a flight of stairs, just the last bit of a scaled tail. This was their chance, this could end now. They sprinted, Ron's longer legs carrying him faster than Hermione could manage. She watched with anxiety as he reached the top, hand raising to stab the beast.

There was a flash of brilliant green, and Ron's hand went limp, the fang clattering on the stone. His body fell, so slowly in her eyes. It seemed like hours watching is body go limp, falling, rolling down the stairs only to rest where Hermione had somehow dropped to her knees. His blue eyes stared blankly up at her.

Somewhere in the distance she heard an ear piercing scream, not knowing it was coming from her own mouth. There was not much she could remember after that. A masked man grabbed her by her hair, taking her wand and dragging her to the courtyard. Idly she wondered why the man hadn't killed her. Oh, how she wished to be dead. Those dead blue eyes haunted her to the soul. Ron, my sweet Ron.

Bound, she was thrown into a group of other captives. Hermione did not bother to see who she was with when she saw the body on the ground several feet in front of her.

Harry Potter was dead. His body was contorted in unnatural angles, hard to look at. It was the moment she knew all was lost. Voldemort was standing gleefully over the body, a horde of followers behind him, victorious.

Then, everything was black.

Four hard concrete walls surrounded her, dimly lit by a few magical torches she could not touch. Not that it mattered, with know wand in a heavily fortified dungeon, there was no hope of escape. She was allowed a mattress on the floor, and a bucket to use as a loo, that magically emptied once a day. She was fed twice a day. She had initially woken here, having no clue as to how long she was out. The first day she had woken, they changed her outfit with magic, and Hermione had been clad in a skin tight white dress, marking her as a mud-blood. The half-blood prisoners were dressed in blue and handful of full blooded Witches and Wizards were dressed similarly in red, to mark them as the worst of traitors. Hermione knew this from the guards, who boasted about their victory loudly enough so those who had been defeated were beaten down just a little more. Yet Hermione hadn't figured out what the purpose was yet, why they were being kept prisoner and not being slaughtered like the Muggle's Holocaust?

The memories of her friends laying dead in piles flooded her senses, as they so often did. There had been nothing but slaughter that day.

There was one survivor, one friend that survived. Ginny Weasly was kept several cells down, beaten, but alive. Hermione had caught a glimpse of the red head as she was being dragged back from what Hermione could only imagine was a torture session.

Hermione sat on her small cot, back against the wall, mulling over the things they could have done differently. How they could have one. Where they failed. Of course, none of it was even slightly useful, but it was something to do other to stare at the four walls of her cell, shivering as a Dementor passed, or a Death Eater with a particularly malicious glint in his eye. A racket echoed down the hallway, startling her out of her own head. The sound of rusty gates being open could be heard, the Death Eaters shouting, the prisoners crying out in pain. Closer and closer the sounds got, until a silver masked face peered at her through the thick bars of her prison door.

"Up with you Mud-Blood." The command was not kindly, not should she expect it to be. When she reached the door, the man grabbed her arm, yanking her into the dim hallway with the others. Chains wrapped around her wrists, and she could see that they were attached to all the survivors in front of her. She wished desperately to look for Ginny, but dare not look behind her, for fear of repercussion. The fact that there was no possible escape now continued to echo in her brain. It wouldn't have mattered, their jailers had each and every one of them blindfolded in moments, so none could easily remember the way in or out of the twisting and turning corridors of the dungeons.

Where they were being taken, only Merlin knew.


	2. Chapter 2 - Bound

**Chapter 2 - Bound**

Everything was dark. Hermione knew she wasn't in the same cell that she had occupied for the last few weeks, it was not the same hard, lumpy cot she had been restlessly sleeping on, but something softer, warmer. The blankets were thicker, she noticed, not nearly as ragged. Taking a few minutes to orient herself before she sat up, she scrutinized what she could see from her position. There was a window in this room, something she had not had the privilege of for months. Moonlight shone dimly through the heavily barred window, but the little bit of light was more than welcome.

The walls were still stone, but not as rough, smoother, like the walls of a castle. Or a manor, her brain piped in. Malfoy Manor, to be precise. She had been given to Draco Malfoy as a victory gift. To be his slave. Panic started to settle in again, not know exactly what that meant. Malfoy had been an enemy since their first day at Hogwarts, his hate for her had only grown over the years. Surely his Aunt had known this, a got joy out of the fact she knew Hermione would be tortured.

There was no way she could sleep, so instead Hermione slipped out of the bed and explored her new prison. Begrudgingly she had to admit the accomodations were better than she could have expected. The window was heavley barred, but the view of the Malfoy courtyard was impressive. There were a few lamps along the walls that could be lit, but nothing that she could use to harm anyone. Moving on she found a small desk and chair, a few books piled on the corner. Most were about bloodlines and ancient familys, so she ignored them and moved on to the last object of the mostly bare room. A heavy metal bar was set into the stone, and on it hung a dozen outfits of her size. Most were the same as she already wore, white skintight dress that hung to her knees, but clung to her curves. There was a camisole she supposed was to be a nightgown, though it was highly inappropriate, and a pair of black robes, each with a large white M printed on the front and back.

'I am property now.' She thought, meagerly making her way back to the bed and crawling in. There was a door directly across the room from where she lay, but tonight she was left to wonder where it led, and if there were any other prisoners in the area.

Slave, slave, slave. The word continued to assault her brain. By telling herself she was a prisoner, it made it seem like someone might be out there to save her. But Hermione had been there, she had seen the destruction.

She watched her best friend and her boyfriend burn.

The moon slipped lower into the sky as Hermione sat in the bed, and eventually the sun began to rise. Had it been a normal day, she might have relished the view. Today was not a day to celebrate anything. Today, she would truly find out her fate. Time passed slowly it seemed. Perhaps it was an hour, maybe less, but eventually she heard movement outside the door of her cell. A lock clicking, the thick oak sliding outward to reveal her captor.

Draco. Hermione had never hatted him more than she did now. Without a coherent thought, she leaps from the bed and across the room, hands grasping desperately at his throat, as if to strangle the evil ferret. It was to no avail. As soon as she reached the doorway her body was jolted back with such force she hit the opposite wall. A barrier, how stupid could she be. Of course they would never give her the opportunity to try and kill anyone.

The silver haired boy seems to get a kick out of the situation. His signature smirk crossed his face as he entered the room, wand pointed directly at Hermione's chest. "Well well Mud-Blood. It seems that my Aunt has given me a new gift." Hermione's body throbbed from where she had hit the wall, and didn't bother to make a move as Draco too several more steps closer to her. "Did you know out Lord made slavery legal? Yes." He chuckled at this, eyes glinting bright blue in the morning sunlight. "Any Mud-Blood or traitor will either be executed, or bow their heads, and be put up for auction, where their new owners will teach them why they are the lesser beings." He was standing above her now, wand still pointed directly at her, but far enough out of reach that there was no chance she might have to disarm him. Tears began to well in her eyes, and she looked down to ensure Draco did not see her cry. She would not give him that satisfaction.

Draco got what he wanted anyway, grabbing her chin and jerking it up, so that her soft brown eyes met his silvery-blue ones. "You are mine now Granger, do you understand?" The smug look on the boy's face was too much to handle.

Draco did not see the attack coming, his ego too big to pay attention. Hermione spat in his face and lept up, ignoring the aching of her body as the attempted to tackle Draco to the ground. The wand was her aim; if she could grab that, she stood a chance of being free.

Hermione had no luck. She had been underfed and beat the past weeks, Draco easily overpowered her, and as soon as the wand was back in his hand, Hermione found herself bound tightly with a rough rope Draco had protruded from his wand, and gagged with a handkerchief he hastily retrieved from a pocket of his emerald green robes.

Fury was evident in his features, from the narrowed eyes to the pursed lips, which only reminded Hermione of his stuck-up mother.

That was the last though she had before stars filled her vision. Her left cheek burned as if it were on fire, she had not seen the slap coming. "You. Obey. ME."

His breathing was heavy, but slowed after a few moments. Neither took the eye off the other during that time, Hermione's heart beating heavily now Her decision had been made; this was not the life she was meant to live. She would continue to fight, if it took a thousand beatings, she would fight, and she would run, she would survive.

Draco turned for a moment, as Hermione had no way to escape her bindings, and when he faced her again, he held what looked like a leather dogs collar that was embellished a capital D and M in silver. It seemed to shimmer in the light. He fastened it around her neck, making sure it was secure before the smug look returned to his face.

"There Granger, you look like a proper bitch now. You see, my father had the Dark Lord make these for all the slaves of noble families. My initials mark that you are mine, same as your clothes." He motions to the nearly bare rack that she looked through earlier before continuing. "Should you try and run, or harm me or any member of my family, the collar will tighten until it chokes the life out of you... or you behave,"

Having explained how it worked, he felt safe enough to release the bindings that held Hermione down, and removed the gag. She looked at him resentfully, to broken to muster up the appropriate amount of hate.

"Now change your clothes into something more appropriate. I'll not be walking around the manor with a mud-blood covered in filth. And make it quick you idiot, I am to give you your duties."

Turning on his heel, the Slytherin she hated so much through the years walked through the door and shut it behind him, the solid clicks of the locks sliding into place filling Hermione with more dread and hopelessness.


End file.
